Magic Doll
by Yellow Mask
Summary: Post-movie. A dark alchemical experiment sends Winry through the gate, and now she is on the run from those who will do anything to obtain the promised 'magic doll'...Edwin.
1. The Man Of Gold

**Magic Doll**

**By Yellow Mask**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FMA.

_AN: Looking back the Philosopher's Secret, I realised I could have done so many more interesting things with the concept of Winry having the Philosopher's Stone in her blood. I'm not going to delete or totally re-write the story (mainly because I know how much it irritates me when that happens to a story I really like), so I decided to simply write another._

_This is set in the anime, about a year after the movie. And as per usual, this chapter was beta-ed by LaughingAstarael._

**Chapter 1**

**The Man Of Gold**

"I did it," the man gasped, blood bubbling between his lips and dribbling down his chin, staining the white hospital blanket. "I don't care what you do to me now...I did it..."

Roy Mustang gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to strike the man across the face. Alton was dying anyway, but Roy had thought the promise of clemency on the remote (very, _very_ remote) chance he lived would persuade him to cooperate.

Would persuade him to tell them where Winry was.

Lieutenant Colonel Alton had been under suspicion for illegal alchemy experiments for some time. For at least a year, the faux Philosopher's Stones had been steadily disappearing from the military stores, and there were some rumours that they were going straight to Alton's private laboratory. Nothing substantial enough to warrant a full-blown investigation, but enough to prompt the brass into making some subtle inquiries, during which they discovered that some children had been disappearing in the Lieutenant Colonel's neighbourhood.

Considering it was also Gracia and Elysia's neighbourhood, Roy had decided to investigate himself, using his own time and his own resources. He hadn't found any definitive link between the kidnappings and Alton...until Gracia rang one day, worried sick, saying that Winry had been coming to visit them, but was nearly five hours late. And considering she'd had a brief phone call that morning from the Rockbell girl telling Gracia she was on her way...the woman had thought it best to alert the authorities.

Both Roy and Riza had spun through Central like a hurricane, trying to determine what had happened to Winry and half hoping it was all some big mistake. Once Sheska had found out what they were doing, she had insisted on helping them.

They'd found out that Winry had indeed made it to Central; she'd disembarked right on time...but what had happened afterwards was a mystery.

It was Sheska who had unearthed the police report that finally gave them their lucky break. A market grocer had seen a struggle taking place in a small back alley, involving a man suspiciously close to Alton's description, an unconscious child, and a blonde woman. The grocer related that the woman had apparently been trying to take the child from the man, and it was her shrieks of 'kidnap' that had brought the grocer running in the first place.

But his intervention had come too late. The man had managed to club the woman over the head with a piece of piping, and had loaded both the woman and the child into a van and driven away. The grocer, of course, had called the police.

At first, the police had been working with the initial assumption that the woman abducted had been the child's mother, until they re-interviewed the grocer and he admitted that the blonde didn't look old enough to have a ten year old child. The tool kit found at the scene with the name 'Winry Rockbell' scratched onto the inside of the lid told them just who the woman had been.

And the grocer's description of the man was enough to warrant a full investigation of Alton.

When the military had stormed the laboratory, they'd found shelves of research material – each document referring to a man of gold – and the missing children. Some were alive and healthy, apart from being terrified and traumatised, but most...weren't.

They'd found Alton in a basement-like room, bare of any trappings or materials save a large transmutation circle which had been cut into the centre of the floor, lines so deep and even they were more like troughs.

Alton had been sprawled in the middle of the circle, coughing blood, his eyes alight with a manically triumphant gleam. Most of the missing children had been positioned at critical points around the circle, all dead, and all with no obvious cause of death.

Of Winry, there had been so sign, save for a bloodied scalpel and a section of pale cloth that looked as though it had been cut from the back of a shirt.

They also hadn't found any trace of the fake Philosopher's Stones.

Alton had been taken to the hospital, where the doctors found he'd had several organs removed, though how it had happened they had no idea. There was no outward injury, no mark of any kind...but his liver, kidneys, spleen, and part of his digestive tract had been exorcised from his body.

The doctors weren't optimistic about his survival.

Roy and Riza had been left to figure out what had happened to Winry. Some of the children had testified that they saw Alton take 'the pretty lady' into the basement just a few hours before the military stormed in...but what had happened after that was anyone's guess.

The cut clothing suggested sexual assault, but the square of fabric was just that...a square of fabric. It had been cut very precisely, not torn away in haste and struggle, more to expose a certain section of the body to...work on...rather than remove it all.

And considering that square of fabric and come from the back of the shirt, Roy felt this indicated Alton had done something to Winry, something they couldn't guess at yet.

"I did it..." the dying man repeated. "I did it..."

Roy frowned. His first impulse was to dismiss the words as the rambling of a crazed maniac...but he couldn't help but wonder if there was something more.

"What did you do?" he found himself asking, unconsciously leaning closer.

"The golden man..." Alton breathed. "I did it. I knew I'd succeeded...saw it in her face before it took her..."

Roy stiffened, but kept silent, sensing that Alton might say more if his monologue was uninterrupted.

"Shouldn't have tried with the children," he rasped. "Should have known...bodies still developing...unstable...couldn't hold...fuel, not vessels..."

A horrible, sickening thought began taking form in Roy's mind. He practically bolted from the hospital, ignoring Alton as the man slipped back into unconsciousness.

He needed to see Alton's notes.

-xxx-

"Any luck so far, sir?" Riza asked.

"I think I know what the man of gold refers to," Roy said, his eyes flicking back and forth between Alton's notes and a thick reference book open on his desk.

"What?"

"Gold is referred to as the immortal metal," he lectured. "Because it doesn't rust. So, by that reasoning, the man of gold seems to refer to a man who's immortal...unless you consider that the ability to make gold and to make someone immortal are both qualities attributed to the Philosopher's Stone."

Riza blinked, the only sign of her shock. "You think Alton was trying to create a Philosopher's Stone?"

"Not just a Philosopher's Stone...a living Philosopher's Stone. He was trying to find a way to contain all the alchemical energy of a Philosopher's Stone into a living human body instead of an inanimate substance."

"Why would anyone want to do something like that?"

"Think of the military potential," Roy mused. "If you could perform it multiple times...you could have an army of people with near unlimited alchemical power who didn't even need to use circles and could ignore Equivalent Exchange."

Riza shivered a little. "Do you think he succeeded?"

"He says he did. Granted, his word isn't worth much...but it explains a lot." Roy sighed, scratching idly at his eyepatch strap. "He took the fake stones from the military stores to use as a base medium. He probably originally intended to use the children to create his so-called 'golden man', but when Winry interfered with one of his kidnappings, I think he saw another way."

The Flame Alchemist rubbed his hand over his mouth as though to get rid of something distasteful. "I think those children on the transmutation circle...I think he used them – used their souls – to complete the Philosopher's Stone. He wouldn't have needed the substance of their bodies – that was already present in the false stones. But the soul was the only part he didn't have."

"So you think he...?"

"I think he used the children as...as fuel...but he used Winry as the centrepoint; the body that would become a living Philosopher's Stone."

Riza hesitated for a moment. "Do you think he...do you think he really succeeded?"

"My first impulse is to say 'no'," Roy admitted. "But there's nothing else that makes sense. It explains why the children died, it explains why the false stones are missing; because their energy went into something else..."

"But I thought a true Philosopher's Stone took hundreds of lives," Riza pointed out.

"Yes, but I don't know what would happen if you used false stones as a base. False stones themselves are incredibly powerful, and records indicate Alton probably stole dozens, maybe hundreds...if we assume most of them went towards this final experiment, they may be capable of producing a true Philosopher's Stone with only a small number of souls used to combine them."

"So why didn't it work when he tried it with...with the other children?"

"Children's bodies are still developing, growing...they're unstable, not to mention that their physical constitution is much weaker than an adult's. It's likely they simply didn't have the strength to survive the transmutation...but Winry is nineteen, has largely stopped growing, and is in the prime of her life and physical health."

Riza's lips thinned, and she addressed the crux of the matter. "Then what happened to Winry?"

Roy shook his head. "That's where it becomes little more than educated guesses. I think we can safely say that he didn't deliberately murder her, if only because he needed her for his experiments. And several of the surviving children testify that Winry was alive a few hours before we came, and since Alton's...condition...somehow occurred in those few, unaccounted for, hours, I doubt he had the chance to dispose of a body."

"So if she's not dead...where is she? If she escaped she would have contacted someone."

"It may seem a little far-fetched...but considering the fact that she took a severe blow to the head, memory loss may be a factor."

"But even so, there are missing posters of her all over Central. Someone would have said something by now."

Roy paused, turning the scenario over in his mind. Alton's insistence that he'd succeeded before 'it took her'. His inexplicable missing organs, Winry's disappearance...

"If he was trying to create a living Philosopher's Stone..." he said slowly. "He would have been performing human transmutation...and that would have opened the Gate."

Again, Riza gave a stunned blink. "I thought...I thought it had been closed."

"I closed the direct portal," Roy agreed. "But not the Gate itself. And as outlandish as this theory sounds...it does explain a lot. Why Alton said 'it took her'...why his organs were removed – the Gate probably took them as payment – and why Winry seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth."

Riza swallowed. "So if the Gate took her...does that mean she's in that...that other world?"

While the idea of Winry ending up in the same world as Ed and Al was certainly appealing, Roy knew they had to look at what little they knew of the Gate. "It's a possibility...but it's also possible that the Gate simply consumed her."

Riza considered the concept, her eyes sad. "We'll never know, will we?"

"No," Roy nodded. "We probably never will."


	2. Terra Incognito

**Chapter 2**

**Terra Incognito**

On the whole, this had not been one of Winry's better days. It had started nicely, no doubt, but had taken a sharp nosedive when she'd passed the market. Hearing a child cry out – in terror and pain, not excitement – she'd made her way into a back-alley, ready to shout for help or wrench someone; whichever seemed more appropriate.

She'd found a man carrying an unconscious child slung over one arm, a hypodermic needle in the other hand as he opened the back doors to a large van.

Winry hadn't even thought about it: she'd rushed forward in an attempt to wrest the child from his arms and delay his escape as she shrieked 'kidnap!' at the top of her lungs.

She'd been so focused on the child that she'd missed him dropping the needle and seizing a piece of piping from among the effluvia in the alley. She'd only noticed he had something big and metal in his grasp when he clubbed her over the head with it.

Things became hazy after that. She vaguely recalled her body giving out on her, remembered pitching forward and her head encountering the hard paving stones of the street, the second blow apparently sending her into unconsciousness. At least, that was the only reason she could think of to explain the fact that she had closed her eyes for what seemed like a few moments only, only to open them and find her surroundings a lot different from those she remembered, with no memory of being in transit.

Winry could tell she was lying on a wooden floor, her legs curled to her stomach, her arms tucked under her chin and bound at the wrist with thin cords. There was complete blackness around her, so it was either after dark or she was being held somewhere that had no windows.

She assumed she was alone, as she couldn't hear anyone else...although she knew it would be hard to concentrate on anything over the persistent, throbbing ache in her skull. It felt as though someone were trying to split it apart down the middle.

As it was, it seemed to take a long time for Winry to register all this; her mind felt strangely disconnected to her body, the blockade between thought and action a yawning chasm where there had once been barely any gap at all.

_'Concussion...'_ she told herself, blinking fuzzily in the darkness. _'At least. Skull fracture can't be ruled out.'_

Winry tried to turn over and get her arms underneath her, but the world spun sickeningly and bile rose in her throat. She let herself sink back the floor, pressing her lips together and hoping she wasn't about to throw up.

"That wasn't a good idea..." she muttered to herself. Her vision was swimming in a rather unsettling way, and when she saw it going grey around the edges she wondered if she was going to pass out.

"...you...okay...?" the voice seemed to come from far away. But some part of her mind recognised the high note to it – a note few adults would be able to hit. The speaker was a child.

She tried to reply, but her tongue wouldn't listen to her, and all she managed to do was make some incoherent mumbling sounds.

"She talks funny..."

"Is the pretty lady okay?"

Winry tried to reach out toward the voices, but her body didn't obey. Fuzzy colours swam in front of her eyes, and she could tell she was passing out again. She could feel her heart slamming painfully against her ribs in a last desperate attempt to circulate oxygen and energy to her brain, but it made no difference. The pain in her head grew distant and unreal, and Winry felt her eyes slipping closed again, unconsciousness snatching her back in the grasp she had so recently escaped.

-xxx-

When Winry woke next, it was to a burning pain in her back. She was face down on a hard, cool, rough surface – cement or some kind of stone, she deduced. She could hear children crying out in fear around her...and something sharp and cold was slicing into her back.

The mechanic whimpered, trying to twist away, but her movements were sow and sluggish, and a hard hand came down on the back of her neck to keep her in place. She tried to lift her arms, but all she managed to do was flap her hands weakly against the floor.

The blade – she guessed it was a blade – came down again, carving through her flesh. Winry cried out, again and again, each time she felt the harsh whip of pain slice through her as the blade parted her flesh. What was he doing? It felt like he was carving her back up like raw meat.

When it was over, Winry was gasping, her breathing uneven and ragged as her flesh burned and stung in the cold air.

Now that her mind wasn't blinded by pain, she realised she was resting on what looked like some kind of transmutation circle that had been cut deeply into the floor beneath her. So deeply that the lines were more like troughs, and were filled with a thick red liquid she couldn't identify.

Winry felt like she had been punched in the gut when she realised the man was going to perform alchemy on her.

Her shoulders were grasped roughly and she was turned over, dragging another cry from her throat as the open, bleeding wounds on her back came into contact with the red liquid. It stung and burned like a seething mass of acid.

Then the world lit up in bright, flashing light, the kind that always accompanied a transmutation.

And then her blood seemed to boil in her veins.

Winry screamed as she felt the red liquid heave and froth beneath her, sliding over her back and plunging into her body through the gashes in her flesh, the crimson fluid siphoning into her as though being sucked up through a straw.

Some part of her mind wondered how it could be happening. There was a lot of liquid in the lines of the circle...how could it be drawn into her body without bursting her blood vessels?

Then the pain began to recede – not much, but enough so she could think and breathe and see again – and Winry became aware that something had gone wrong.

She wasn't in the basement anymore – instead, she was sprawled in front of a pair of doors that seemed to be hanging in limbo.

Winry didn't know much about alchemy, but something told her this wasn't meant to happen.

Her ill-feeling was more than confirmed when the doors burst open and a myriad of black tentacles wrapped around her body, dragging her through the gateway. The mechanic thrashed, but no amount of struggling seemed to dislodge their grip. They didn't feel quite solid, but at the same time, their hold on her was undeniable and unbreakable.

They skittered across her flesh...and at once, the lines on her back began to burn, searing and swelling, as though something were being forced out through them...

And then Winry was lying on cool stone once more, breathless and wracked with pain, blood running down her back, her mind reeling.

But she wasn't lying in the basement. There was cold stone underneath her, yes...but she seemed to be in some sort of large underground hall, surrounded by people in dark robes.

Winry's first feeling was one of relief. Ignoring the way her back was still stinging sharply, she scrambled to her feet, reaching pleading for the one closest to her.

"Please – I need help! I was kidnapped – there were these children there, too..."

But the blonde's voice died in her throat when the circle around her seemed to draw back, as though in awe.

But that wasn't what scared her – it was what they spoke. Their voices were loud, sounding both frightened and exhilarated...but the words hadn't been spoken in English.

Winry's throat closed tight. She had never heard of alchemy being used to transport someone before...but then, she didn't know much about alchemy. Next to nothing, really.

Someone snatched at the shredded remnants of her shirt and the blonde leapt away like a skittish horse. Some part of her mind dimly noted that the fuzziness and disorientation from the concussion had vanished, but that thought vanished into confusion and panic as the hooded figures closed in around her.

Winry kicked out, knowing she could never do anything, but she was feeling the fighting instincts of the trapped animal rising with her. One of them stumbled back, but hard fingers closed over her shoulders and practically threw her to the side.

She stumbled and fell heavily on her side, the impact with the cold stone knocking the wind out of her. While some lucid part of her mind noted that the floor she was lying on had lines painted on it – lines that looked rather like a transmutation circle – the rest of her brain was busy screaming in panic.

Winry had just made a move to roll to her feet and try to get some sort of handle on this situation, when the world suddenly lit up in front of her eyes as the circle beneath her flared like the sun.

Pain bloomed between her shoulder blades and down her back, racing across her skin like a river of fire.

She thought she might have screamed, but she couldn't be sure. All she knew was that when the light died her cheeks were wet with tears, her muscles were quivering as though she'd just been electrocuted, and the blood running down her back seemed to have increased its flow.

And it seemed that a statue had grown out of the middle of the stone floor.

Winry's mind was reeling so badly she didn't dare try to stand – at the moment, she had a feeling even hands and knees might be a bit too ambitious for her. But she could hear the people around her exclaiming in shock, some crowding around to touch the statue or stare at her in awe.

_'It's almost like they've never seen alchemy before,'_ was Winry's dazed thought before the world began to swim away from her again.

It seemed she and unconsciousness were fast becoming close friends.

-xxx-

Winry huddled in the corner of her cell, her mind still trying to make sense of it all even though she knew she must have been here for days.

From what she could gather, she was the prisoner of a cult-like group that seemed devoted purely to alchemy. It seemed kind of stupid – alchemy was just a skill, like any other you could learn. Why make such a fuss over it?

She hadn't met one person who spoke English, so Winry thought she could either assume she wasn't in Amestris anymore, or that her captors deliberately spoke in some sort of secret language to confuse her.

She had seen very little of...wherever it was she was being held; just the small, windowless, cellar-like room she was kept in, and the large room they took her into when they were performing alchemy. Winry didn't know why, but she now seemed to be an integral part of their weird alchemical rituals. It might have had something to do with the way alchemy had transported her here – at least, she assumed alchemy had transported her here; that or she'd remained unconscious for a very, very long time and simply hallucinated the light and the strange doors and the grasping, shadowy hands.

Come to think of it...that had looked very similar to that strange Gate-thing that she'd seen a year ago in Central...

Winry shook her head, firmly telling herself to stop speculating. She didn't know a thing about alchemy (except that Equivalent Exchange thing Ed was always harping about), so it was pointless to torture herself with possibilities.

Not when the one thing she knew for certain was that there was something wrong with her.

Winry didn't know what had happened when her initial kidnapper – and what had her life sunk to, now that she needed to distinguish between former and current captors? – had thrown her on the transmutation circle and cut up her back, but she fairly certain it had altered her in some fundamental, intrinsic way.

Her first clue had been that when she awoke in the cell, and could find no gashes on her back. Her shirt was still torn, there were flakes of crisp, dried blood on her skin...but no injury. Instead, her fingers had encountered raised, strangely-smooth skin – rather like scar tissue.

That hadn't been the end of it. Winry might have written it off as a strange, one-time side-effect of the transmutation...except it kept happening. The next time they'd dragged her into the stone hall, the transmutation hadn't been performed – nothing had happened when the robed figures touched their hands to the circle. There had been some kind of hurried, internal conference during which Winry had tried to make a break for it, but had ended with her being held down on the stone while one of them re-opened her previous injuries with a small blade.

At some point, Winry had passed out...and awoken back in her cell, with no wounds on her body.

Since then, she had discovered that her blood had somehow become a vital part of their ritual. For some reason, these people seemed to be using a kind of alchemy that couldn't function without blood as part of the transmutation. It seemed that every time they tried to perform alchemy, Winry would be dragged from her cell and made to bleed.

She couldn't remember Ed and Al ever mentioning this branch of alchemy, but then again, she couldn't picture them using this kind of alchemy.

And the injuries always healed, much faster than they should have.

But it didn't stop there. Winry hadn't had anything to eat since she'd been kidnapped...yet she was still in perfect health. She was sitting in a dark stone room that she knew was cold, yet she didn't actually feel as though she were freezing, even considering the light clothes she was dressed in.

Winry knew there was definitely something wrong with her – the transmutation had probably changed her somehow.

The door opened, light slicing into the darkness like a blade. Winry tensed, pressing herself against the wall, ready to make good her escape.

She knew was being confined in a cellar, because they had to lead her up some stairs before they emerged into a corridor with a large glass window that made it obvious that floor was on ground level. That corridor then led to the room where they performed their strange rituals, but it was the window Winry had focused on. Every time they dragged her from the cell, she'd struggled in the corridor – struggled so violently that she and her captors were repeatedly sent careening into the walls...and the window.

Glass was much tougher than people thought, but the last time she'd been brought up, Winry's plans had finally born fruit; she had felt the glass crack a little beneath the heavy impact of her shoulder.

If she threw herself at it now...Winry hoped it would shatter, sending her through it and onto the ground, where she could hopefully make a run for it. She wouldn't have risked it if it was a second-story window (the resulting injuries would make escape difficult) but since there was barely a distance of a metre between the windowsill and the ground...Winry felt she could take the risk.

So when she was unceremoniously yanked to her feet and muscled up the stairs, Winry waited until they were level with the window, before throwing all her weight to the side, tearing her from her escort's grip and leaving her to impact the window with every particle of force she could muster.

The glass shattered and Winry went reeling through it to collapse on the cold grass outside. Her forehead, hip and shoulder burned and throbbed where they'd caught on jagged pieces of glass still hanging tenaciously in the frame, but there was no time to dwell on the pain.

Winry rolled over, scrambling to her feet and bolting away from the house like a frightened horse, feeling grateful that it was night and the darkness soon swallowed her up even as shouts and cries began to echo through the house behind her.

She gritted her teeth against the urge to yelp every time her movements pulled on the gash in her side, pressing her hands against it to try to stem the flow of blood. The light from the house soon disappeared, and while it was good that those in the house couldn't see her...it meant that Winry was left reeling blind through a landscape as strange as that from another planet.

She only barely managed to stifle a cry of shock as her foot caught the edge of a muddy ditch and slipped from beneath her, sending her lurching forwards before she managed to catch herself, her heart thundering so hard she could feel its beat in every part of her body.

She could still hear shouts behind her, and determinedly resumed her pace, feeling the cold air sting the back of her throat and warm blood drip down her side and face, a smaller stream warming her arm. Winry hoped she wasn't losing too much blood.

The blonde was forced to bend nearly double to mount a steep hill, her muscles burning, her wounds throbbing with knifing pain and her breath sobbing in her throat. Normally, she would have been forced to stop and catch her breath by now, but the adrenaline pumping through her body didn't allow her to even think of slowing down. All she had to do was remember the circle of robed figures and the shining blade to know that giving up was _not an option_.

-xxx-

_AN: Thanks to LaughingAsatrael for beta-ing this chapter and suggesting the title for it when I was stumped._


	3. Salvation

**Chapter 3**

**Salvation**

Noa cracked the door open, gazing out into the night. She could have sworn she'd heard something...

Considering the farmhouse Ed and Al had purchased was barely a mile or so from a house known to be used by the resurrected Thule Society, she believed she had reason to be cautious. While she knew that they probably wouldn't want anything more to do with her or the Elrics as it had led them to nowhere but disaster before, she was still nervous when she was in the house alone.

Tonight, Ed had stayed late in town in an attempt to iron out the problems in their new rocket design while Al had joined the Thule Society for one of their meetings.

Both brothers had decided to keep a close eye on the group of would-be alchemists in an attempt to avert another disaster like the one which had occurred when they'd first tried to reach 'Shambala'.

Noa still felt a prickle of guilt for having assisted them in that.

So, to that end, Ed had bought the farmhouse near their new base of operations and Al – the only one of them whose appearance was unknown to the Thule Society at large – had entered their organization to report back to their activities. For the last few weeks, his stories had been rather alarming; the Thule Society was claiming that they had some sort of 'magic doll' that helped them perform alchemy. Supposedly sent from Shambala, this 'magic doll' enabled them to perform real transmutations, though from what Ed and Al had told her, alchemy was an impossibility in this world.

Al had admitted he didn't know what was fact and what was inflated rumour, and he wasn't high enough yet on the totem pole to be allowed to actually see this 'magic doll' or the wonders it could perform. In fact, tonight was meant to be his official induction into the Thule Society's inner circle and thus his first glimpse of the magic doll.

So perhaps Noa was being a little paranoid, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

The feeling was vindicated when a blonde girl, covered in mud and blood, staggered from around the woodpile and into the light.

For a moment, sheer shock froze Noa in place.

The girl's eyes landed on her, and she said something – a word either too garbled to make out or in a language she didn't know – and then stumbled, lurching to her hands and knees.

And then Noa's paralysis dissolved.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, flying to the girl's side. "What happened? Where are you hurt?"

The blonde looked up at her, bewilderment and incomprehension in her eyes, and spoke again. This time Noa was sure she was speaking another language. The words made no sense whatsoever.

Her face was sickeningly pale, blood oozed from a wide gash on her forehead, her limbs were trembling as though in the extremities of exhaustion, and she kept glancing back at the night behind her as though expecting something to emerge from the darkness and snatch her at any moment.

She was clearly distressed and in pain, and she had obviously fled from something. Noa raised her hand to touch the girl's forehead, grimacing as hot blood stained her fingertips, preparing to scan the surface of the girl's thoughts – just to determine what she was so frightened of and how to calm her down.

But when she stretched out her mind to the girl's...it was like being caught in a snare. The girl's mind yanked her down, and instead of pulling images and information from the blonde's mind, Noa realised the strange girl was pulling it from hers!

Images rushed past her as the events of her life poured into the girl's mind like a river of swirling colour and sound. The sensation dazed her, shook her senses like a mental earthquake and left her reeling. But somehow – she didn't know how – Noa managed to dredge up enough strength in the mental whirlwind she was caught in to rip her hand away from the girl's forehead.

At the loss of contact, their brief mental bond snapped like a frayed rope. As though the severing of that connection had taken the last of her strength with it, the blonde toppled backwards, sprawling on the grass in an insensible heap.

Still reeling from having the depths of her thoughts dredged, Noa made a split-second decision. She seized the blonde under the arms and lugged her back inside, kicking the door shut behind them. Noa dropped the girl to the floor and began to search for the source of the blood, finding that, in addition to the gash on the strange woman's forehead, she had a small gash on her shoulder and a larger cut on her side. The ones on her shoulder and forehead weren't too worrying, as they had partially clotted already, but the one on her side stretched from her waist to mid-thigh. Glimpses of yellowish pelvic bone told Noa just how deep it was.

Roma often had to serve as doctors, nursemaids and midwives for their own people as there were few others willing to do so, so Noa had a concept of basic first-aid. She left the girl on the floor as she bolted for the kitchen cabinets, yanking out rolls of gauze. Al had insisted on keeping a well-stocked first aid kit – something about how Ed was...

Noa practically fell down next to the unconscious woman, desperate to bandage the gaping wound in her side before she bled out...

But it was then that she noticed the pink smoke rising from the woman's injuries. Not only that, but the wide gash that she knew had exposed hipbone was now only a deep red, no sign of bone at all.

Noa's hands tightened convulsively on the bandages, a sudden shiver wracking her fame. What was happening?

But the events of the past year had given Noa a strong tolerance for the strange and inexplicable, enough so that could set aside her questions and concentrate on saving the woman's life.

Pointedly ignoring the smoking and mysteriously changing injuries, she wrapped bandages tightly around the woman's abdomen, making sure all of the long, gaping wound was covered. She did the same to the gashes on her shoulder and head.

She knew the hard wooden floor was hardly a comfortable place, but she didn't dare move the woman again for fear of aggravating her injuries further. So Noa remained crouching by the blonde's side, her hand firmly pressed against the largest injury, hoping the added pressure might help stem the flow of blood.

Unfortunately, that was where Noa's ability to help ended. She couldn't even call for the doctor – her accent labeled her as Roma for anyone with an ear to listen, and she'd already found out the hard way that the doctor wouldn't come out if she called him. She'd have to wait for either Ed or Al to return before she could acquire more help for the blonde woman.

She kept her hands pressed against the bandages, grimacing as she felt them already beginning to grow damp with blood. She hadn't used nearly enough of the gauze to stem such a determined flow, and it was with a sinking heart that she watched red seep into the white material.

And yet...it might have been her imagination, but she could have sworn the blood flow was slower than before. In fact, she could almost feel it tapering off even as it dampened her fingers.

Frightened that the girl's heart was slowing – that she was beginning to die – Noa took one red-slicked hand from the bandages and pressed it against the side of the blonde's neck. But the pulse there was steady and strong, no hint of failing.

But only a few minutes later, the blood had stopped. Noa shift the blood-soaked bandages away, feeling her stomach twist as she contemplated what she could find – she knew no normal human stopped bleeding that quickly.

There was no injury. Noa blinked, running her hand over the long white scar that had replaced it. For a moment, she wondered if she'd nodded off at the table and this was some kind of dream.

The woman's skin twitched at her touch, and her eyelids fluttered like hesitant butterflies before blinking open. Her eyes were clouded and confused for a moment, before realisation settled in them and they widened in fright.

"What the hell's going on?" she yelled, scrambling upright.

And Noa felt her own eyes widen as she realised she'd understood what the woman had said.

-xxx-

Al sighed as he set off for home, walking through the darkness, alert to the slightest noise around him.

What had been meant to be his induction into the true Thule Society had turned into a manhunt through the surrounding countryside as they scrambled to find the 'magic doll' that had apparently escaped from them. The good news was that this had finally forced the other members to reveal to him exactly what the magic doll looked like as they needed his help in finding it.

The bad news was that the magic doll was apparently a human being. They had said it was a witch from Shambala who came to them in a flash of light, which Al took to meaning that it was a woman from his and Ed's world who had come through the gate, probably as a result of human transmutation.

And he didn't really know how to feel about that. On one hand, it could just be an innocent person caught up in the transmutation...but on the other, it could be someone like Dante.

Still, no matter who they were, they didn't deserve to be in the hands of the Thule Society. As soon as he could, Al had made his excuses and slipped away, claiming he was going to keep watch on the roads.

He'd jog home, tell Noa to be on the lookout for a strange person reeling around in the darkness, and conduct his own search. If they were an innocent, lost in this world...then he'd take them home and do his best to hide them. If they were someone like Dante...well, he'd deal with it.

-xxx-

Winry had been relieved when she'd reached the top of the hill and seen a glimmer of light below her. Even knowing that it might be more of her captors, that there was no guarantee the person there would help her...she had still set off towards it, knowing it was her best hope.

The woman she'd found had reminded her dazed mind of Rose...until she'd spoken in a language Winry had never heard before.

The mechanic's legs had given out, most likely a product of blood loss and her bolt from her captors. She'd been frightened that her pursuers were hard on her heels, even though the shouts had long since faded into the night, and the woman's distressed babbling hadn't helped as she realised there was no way to make herself understood.

The woman who looked like Rose had smoothed her hair and then...Winry didn't know what had happened. But it hadn't been pleasant. A blur of images and information battered at her mind like a hailstorm, and coupled with her exhaustion and injuries, it had been the last straw for her fragile hold on consciousness.

She'd passed out...only to awaken with the woman bent over her, her hands against Winry's side. She'd all but leaped backwards, asking what she thought she was doing...except she hadn't actually recognised the words that came out of her mouth.

She knew they meant what she asked, in the same way she knew what her own native language meant. She just knew – the knowledge was as automatic as if she'd been speaking the strange dialect all her life.

And the same way she knew that, she knew – without being sure how she knew – that the woman she was talking to was named Noa.

She still wasn't quite sure which part of that was the most worrying.

"It's alright," Noa whispered. "You were hurt, but..."

She made a vague gesture towards Winry's hip, and the mechanic glanced down. The ugly gash that had seeped blood all through her desperate gallop from her captors had healed to a thin scar.

Like every other injury she had received since coming here, but Winry had more pressing concerns than rehashing old mysteries.

"I'm not going back!" she snapped. "No way, no how!"

Noa's brow creased in confusion and she shifted uncomfortably, as though she were approaching a cornered tiger. "Go back?"

"To them," Winry hissed, her tone as venomous as a snakebite.

"You don't have to go back," the Roma said cautiously, knowing fear when she saw it. "You don't have to go anywhere. You can just...stay here..."

Winry stared at her, not knowing if she could trust her, but not really seeing any choice. She could either stay here, and take a chance...or she could bolt out the door and resume blundering in a dark, alien world and hope her captors didn't stumble across her.

"Okay," she said dully, feeling the adrenaline rush beginning to die, leaving only hollow exhaustion in its place.

She couldn't even be bothered to wonder about the rush of images or her sudden, inexplicable knowledge of the girl's name and her language. She was just too tired...of everything. Of being held captive, of being butchered like a steak, of mysterious workings in her body that made it near-invincible, of bizarre mind-melds that bestowed in a minute knowledge she couldn't have learned in a year...

Whatever her life had suddenly become – a strange dream, some higher being's demented game – Winry wanted to quit and go home.

"Do you...do you want something to drink?" Noa asked, grasping at a familiar ritual as she attempted to meander back to steady ground.

She had no idea what to do with women whose injuries healed themselves, who could turn her own mental readings against her...but she could do this. She could deal with this.

"That would be nice," Winry said absently.

-xxx-

It was, Winry thought, one of the most surreal things she had ever experienced. And considering what the past few weeks or months or however long she'd been held prisoner had been like, that was saying a lot.

At least, when she was captured, she'd come to expect ill-treatment. And that weird thing with her blood wasn't quite as bizarre as the strange alchemical ritual that had brought her here...wherever here was.

But sitting calmly at a kitchen table drinking tea barely minutes after she had escaped and had a stream of images poured into her mind the moment Noa touched her forehead – a stream that somehow allowed her to learn the girl's name and speak her language?

Frankly, Winry thought it was odd the woman hadn't kicked her out, especially when she saw her injuries heal up like that.

Although, she suspected this wasn't the strangest thing that had ever happened to Noa. Most of the images and knowledge the strange connection had brought her had yet to resolve into anything sensible – it was like being shown a series of flashcards at a speed too fast for her to really see what they were – but she had the impression that Noa was used to seeing unusual things.

"So...you speak German now," Noa said softly.

"I guess," Winry mused, knowing what the words were yet hearing them come out of her mouth in a dialect very different to the one she was accustomed to. "So, if I'm speaking German, what is this place? Germania?"

"Germany," Noa corrected.

Something shifted in the night outside and Winry tensed, her head jerking towards the window.

"What's after you?" Noa asked quietly.

The Roma girl suspected she should be a lot more worried about this than she actually was. For all she knew, this girl – who had introduced herself as Winry – could be an escaped convict on the run from the police.

But though their mental connection had been largely one-sided (and not the side Noa had expected), it had left Noa with a lingering feeling that, whoever she was, Winry wasn't a bad person.

"A bunch of sadists in robes who seem to think that carving someone up is a necessity to perform alchemy," Winry muttered, suppressing a shiver as dark memories crowded on her mind.

"Alchemy?" Noa thought quickly. "Did you...happen to escape from a house nearby? In that direction?"

She pointed towards their nearest neighbour – the hideout of the Thule Society.

Winry tensed, her eyes flaring open in naked panic. "How did you know about that?"

Noa's heart slammed against her ribs. This girl...had just escaped from the Thule Society.

The same Thule Society who probably had people out looking for, even now, combing the woods for any trace of the blonde woman sitting at Noa's kitchen table.

Noa knew it was unlikely they'd come knocking on her door – the Thule Society was far too secretive – but even the remotest possibility was too much.

She needed to get Winry away from the windows.

-xxx-

"Thanks for this," Winry said, trying not to let her voice shake too much. Being in this basement was beginning to trigger a few flashbacks to her captivity, but she would have agreed to hide in a pile of manure to evade the people Noa had told her were called the Thule Society.

The people who apparently owned some property quite close to this house, barely a mile or so away. Winry had been stunned to realise how little distance she'd actually covered – in the dark, with her side burning and her breath sawing, it had felt like several eternities.

"Just stay here and I'll bring you something to make you more comfortable," Noa told her. "We'll work everything out in the morning."

Winry knew that 'everything' referred to, among other things, exactly where she was going to go and what she would do. While Noa had shown herself to be practically the patron saint of lost, injured escapees, Winry doubted the woman would want her as a permanent resident in her house. It just wasn't something you did with strangers – Winry was surprised Noa had trusted her enough to believe her story instead of throwing her from the house.

Though from her short, terse description of the Thule Society, it sounded like she'd tangled with them before...

-xxx-

Noa was tugging a blanket from the closet when the door opened and Al strode in.

"Hey, Noa, there's a problem. The 'magic doll' the Thule Society was going on about was actually a woman from my and Ed's world. She escaped, fortunately for her, and now she's wandering around. Keep an eye out for her – I'm going to go out again and try to find her before the Thule Society does."

"But she's here!" Noa gasped, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the basement door. "She said she was held prisoner – I brought her down to the basement to hide her in case some of them came looking for her-"

As she spoke, she swung the door open, and Al froze as soon as he saw the woman leaning against the wall.

He felt as though his breath had condensed to a hard ball of emotion that lodged in his throat, and he was barely able to squeak out the word, "Winry?"

"_Al?_"

-xxx-

_AN: Thanks to justcallmefaye for beta-ing this chapter._


	4. Reunited

**Chapter 4**

**Reunited**

Winry stared at the man in front of her, barely able to credit what she was seeing. While she had thought – in passing – that she might have been thrown through the famous gate and into the world Ed and Al had traveled to, she had never seriously considered it.

She hadn't dared to hope she might actually find them.

Her brain barely had time to process that yes, this was Al in front of her, and yes, that meant she must have gone through the Gate, before her feet were moving. They sent her hurtling straight into Al as she threw her arms around his neck, fighting the temptation to burst out sobbing. She had a feeling that if she started, she wouldn't be able to stop.

Her face was pressed into messy blonde hair, which smelled vaguely of shampoo. The thought that Al must have washed his hair recently skittered through her foggy brain as she soaked in his presence like a dried flower drinking in water in a sudden downpour.

She had felt reassured when she and Noa talked, confident that the woman wouldn't just hand her over to the Thule Society...but now, she was with someone she trusted, someone she loved like the brother she'd never had.

Now, she was _safe_.

At least, until she realised that one of Al's hands had come to rest just between her shoulder blades. Despite knowing that this was the boy she'd grown up with, Winry stiffened, the pressure on her back bringing back flashes of steel and blood...

"Are you...okay?" Al whispered, almost right into her ear. His voice was wavering a little, and there still a certain stunned sound to his voice, as though he couldn't quite believe what was happening.

He wasn't alone. Winry was feeling more than a little stunned herself.

"I'm...alright," she said slowly, leaning back and feeling a flash of relief when Al's hands slipped away from her back. "Yeah, I'm...alright..."

And then, without warning, Winry felt herself dissolve into tears and noisy sobs of relief.

-xxx-

Ed stepped out of the facility and locked the door with a certain sense of relief. He'd spent the entire day and the better part of the night ironing out one of the problems in their rocket design...though he suspected he might not have taken quite so long if his mind hadn't been preoccupied with thoughts of Al in the midst of the Thule Society, finally discovering what their famous 'magic doll' supposedly was.

Even though his logical mind insisted the rumours of actual alchemy were nothing but that – rumours – he couldn't shake the feeling that there might be some truth to it. They'd claimed their 'doll' had come from Shambala...did that mean someone from Amestris had been dragged into Germany somehow?

Ed sighed, starting up the car and telling himself it would do no good to dwell on it – he'd know soon enough.

-xxx-

Winry knew that her reaction was perfectly understandable – she'd been running on adrenaline and fear for the duration of her captivity, and to have that tension suddenly relieved was often as traumatic as its infliction. She'd spent weeks locked up in darkness, being periodically dragged out and cut open...and to be taken in and sheltered, offered sympathy, and reunited with one of her oldest, dearest friends who she had thought lost to her forever...

She supposed she could be forgiven for feeling a little overwhelmed. But all the knowledge in the world didn't stop her from feeling like a crybaby.

She sniffled a little wetly, and Al glanced at her in alarm. Her crying fit had ceased a few minutes ago, but she still looked as though she was in shock.

And when Al had hugged her, he was fairly certain he'd felt her flinch when his hand landed on her back.

"Winry...did they hurt you?"

She offered a tremulous smile. "I'm fine."

Which wasn't really an answer to his question, Al noted. She was wearing one of Noa's blouses, and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her own shirt.

As he pondered that, Noa stepped into the room and handed Winry a cup of tea.

"Thanks," the blonde grinned.

At first, Al didn't know what bothered him about that word. It took a moment to realise it had been spoken in fluent, perfectly accented German – even Ed didn't speak it that well!

"You speak German," he said dumbly, switching to the language now that Noa was in the room and he knew Winry could speak it.

Another wan smile from Winry was his reply.

"How long have you been here?" Al asked with growing horror. They'd only heard rumours of the magic doll recently, but that didn't mean that Winry hadn't been in Germany for longer than that. He felt his chest constrict as he considered the possibility that she could have been in the grasp of the Thule Society for months.

Winry shrugged. "I don't really know – they kept me locked up most of the time. Maybe a few weeks."

Her tone was light, but the dark shadows in her eyes told Al he wasn't getting the full story. But when she yawned, he supposed questions about that could wait – _all_ his questions could wait until she had rested.

"You can take my bed, if you want," he offered.

"Could I?" The hope in her eyes was painful. He swallowed as he wondered how Winry must have been treated for her to look as though she'd been handed a priceless ruby at the prospect of being given a bed.

But Al said nothing, simply nodding and pointing to the door that led to his bedroom, and Winry rose with a grateful smile. Something in her expression told him she knew he still had questions, and that she'd be willing to answer them as soon as she'd gotten some sleep.

Some part of him was unwilling to let Winry out of his sight, afraid she might suddenly vanish as soon as he couldn't see her...but he let her go into the room without a word. He knew it was silly, and since he doubted Winry would agree to let him watch her sleep, he didn't protest.

His door snapped shut, and he turned to Noa, his voice low, "Do you think she's really okay?"

Noa bit her lip and debated with herself for a moment, before she decided Al should know. "Al...there's something else..."

He blinked.

She moved to the pot where she'd stored the blood-soaked bandages, intending to boil and sterilise them later. "When Winry first came, she hadn't escaped without...injury."

"Injury!" Al hissed, half-rising. "Why didn't she say something, why didn't she-?"

"Because while I was in the middle of treating them, her injuries healed."

Now Al was staring, and Noa showed him the bandages, resplendent with crimson stains, to illustrate her story. "She had a cut on her side so deep I could see bone. It was bleeding so much I almost thought she was going to die...but then it stopped bleeding, and when I looked, there was nothing but a thin scar."

"What did they do to her?" Al whispered, his voice anguished. "Do you think they-"

"I don't know," Noa said quietly, the only thing she could say with any truthfulness. "I don't know."

Al didn't know how long they stayed there, standing awkwardly in the living room, struggling to digest the events of the past few hours. Winry had returned to them...but Noa made it clear she had been altered in the process. He could only imagine the nightmare Winry had gone through, and while Al was undoubtedly happy she had been reunited with them, it was mingled with a thick dose of regret that it was under such circumstances, and a touch of guilt that some part of him was so pleased.

He was only broken from his contemplation by the sound of a car pulling up outside.

"Brother!" he exclaimed, practically running for the front door. How would Ed react to this?

"Hey," Ed said, sounding bemused as he shed his coat, hanging it on the hook beside the door. "That's a rather exuberant greeting – I take it there's something to this magic doll thing then?"

"The magic doll is...it was...it was a person!" Al stammered, struggling to find a halfway calm method of breaking the news.

Ed's mouth twisted. A person was being held prisoner by the Thule Society. No wonder Al had practically jumped up to tell him.

"But she escaped," Al went on. "And she...brother...it's Winry!"

Ed froze, his heartbeat suddenly ringing alarmingly loudly in his chest. "Al, that's not funny."

"I'm not joking!" the younger Elric insisted, seizing Ed's hand and tugging him towards the bedroom Winry was sleeping in.

He cracked the door open an inch or two, just enough to let a slice of light illuminate the face of the woman resting on the bed.

At first, Ed couldn't believe what he was seeing. He blinked, hard, just to see if this was some sort of hallucination, but the information his eyes were relaying remained the same.

That was Winry, sleeping in Al's bed. That was Winry, barely a few feet away from him.

That was Winry...on this side of the Gate.

Ed said something surprisingly obscene – even for him – in a dazed, disbelieving sort of voice. He reached out, starting forward into the room on impulse, and Al grabbed his arm to hold him back.

"She just escaped," he said softly. "She needs to sleep."

"Right, right." Ed still sounded dazed, and he hadn't taken his eyes from Winry.

Al tugged on his wrist to prompt him to move and shut the door behind them, letting the woman inside continue her slumber undisturbed.

"Sit down and Noa and I will try to explain everything to you," Al instructed.

Ed did as he was told, which was the biggest tell that he was still far too shocked to actually process anything.

So Al struck while the iron was hot, as the saying went, and told Ed everything he knew. Which wasn't a lot, but what little they did know was earth-shattering enough.

They knew that Winry had been imprisoned by the Thule Society for weeks. And they knew that she'd been altered somehow during her captivity, perhaps through some kind of warped experiment.

"So..." Ed's voice was a little too calm, and his knuckles were white where they'd clenched in the fabric of his pants. "You think the Thule Society...did something to her."

It wasn't a question.

"Who else could it be?" Al said quietly, his throat aching. "Noa showed me the bandages – Winry must have been bleeding really badly. But she didn't have a scratch when I saw her."

Ed shook his head, feeling as though someone had hit him on the head with a mallet. His body felt too small to contain the emotions running through him. Some part of him was happy to see Winry, and he felt guilty for being happy when it was obvious she had suffered so much in coming to this world. He felt simultaneously shocked at what he'd just heard and physically sickened by the idea that the Thule Society might have used Winry as a lab rat.

He closed his eyes and dug the heels of his hand into his temples, feel the cool metal of his automail through the glove that concealed it. Ed dropped his arms to his knees and stared at the limb, at the sliver of steel that peeked from the gap between his glove and sleeve.

The metal Winry had created for him. The automail she had given to him the last time he had seen her.

For a moment, Ed closed his eyes, reliving the adrenaline rush of the crash, the throb of bruises on his body...and the sight of Winry in front of him, tall and strong and smiling. The feel of her arms around him, her body pressed tight against his.

He had thought he had broken the link between Amestris and this world. He had thought the Thule Society would never find a way to reach it again. He had thought everyone in Amestris was safe from them.

He had thought Winry was safe from them. Cut off from him, perhaps...but safe.

And now, he was learning that he'd been wrong. That Winry had been anything but safe. That she'd been in this world, being tortured, for weeks...and he'd never known. He'd never even suspected.

When Ed took a chair into Al's room, determined to spend the night watching over Winry, neither Noa nor his brother said anything.

He hadn't been able to protect her then, but he could damn well protect her now.

-xxx-

Winry woke to the smell of toast. For a moment, she experienced a pleasant amnesia – she thought she was in her own bed, smelling her grandmother making breakfast. But then she realised the ceiling she was staring at didn't look anything like the ceiling of her bedroom, and it all came rushing back.

She sat up in her borrowed bed, glancing around the room with a sort of weary puzzlement. Some part of her still couldn't believe her captivity was over, that she was here and safe, with Al and...

Ed!

She blinked as she took in the man sleeping in the chair in the corner of the room. When her eyes confirmed that, yes, it was really Ed there, Winry rose and hesitantly made her way to stand beside him.

For several moments, she just stared, drinking him in, feeling her heart squeeze a little in her chest. She'd thought she would never see him again. When she had seen the blimp vanish through the Gate...she had resigned herself to a life without him. She had tried to go on, tried to forget him, tried anything she could to make his and Al's absence sting a little less.

And now she was with them again. Al was right downstairs, and Ed was right in front of her.

Blinking away a hint of tears, the mechanic reached out and shook Ed's shoulder, rousing him.

"Huh?" Ed spluttered, as he came around. "Wha-?"

Then his eyes landed on her, and his voice died in his throat.

Winry gave him a trembling smile before she launched herself at him and threw her arms around his neck, clinging tightly to him, almost exactly as she had so long ago.

But this time, Ed didn't remain stiff and shocked in her embrace. This time, she felt him clutch at her in return, almost as fiercely. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his neck, breathing in his scent as she felt tears prickle at her eyes once more.

Fortunately, his arms were around her lower back, away from the danger zone between her shoulder blades.

Ed gave a long, shuddering sigh, feeling most of the tension leak out of his body. He pressed Winry to him as tightly as he dared, reveling in the contact, in the real, tactile proof that she was here with him and safe.

"Winry..." he sighed softly, closing his eyes and blindly pressing his face against her hair.

They remained that way for long moments, wrapped in each other's embrace, until a sudden loud clang from below brought them back to themselves.

They disengaged slowly, each wanting to prolong the contact as long as possible.

"Want some breakfast?" Ed asked softly, trying to inject a bit of lightness into the atmosphere.

Winry's giggle sounded suspiciously wet, but her eyes were dry when she stepped away. "Sure."

They made their way into the kitchen, where Al was making toast and Noa was stirring a pot that smelled suspiciously like porridge.

"Don't give me much," she cautioned as Noa began to spoon the porridge into four bowls. "I should probably take it easy."

Of course, seeing as she hadn't lost an ounce of weight while she was being starved, Winry doubted the normal rules applied to her anymore...but it couldn't hurt to be cautious.

Ed blinked, hard. Al and Noa had informed him of Winry's sudden ability to speak German, but it was still quite startling to hear the language come from her mouth.

In fact, he thought he detected a slight Roma accent to her speech...

"Why?" Al asked. "I mean, why should you take it easy?"

"Because they never fed me," Winry said softly, staring determinedly at her porridge instead of the others.

She took a tentative spoonful and brought it to her lips, swallowing almost immediately. Her stomach didn't rebel – if fact, she didn't even feel the nausea she knew was common to most starvation victims when they tried to eat again.

"They didn't feed you?" Al echoed, sounding stricken.

"Not once. They never gave me anything to drink, either." Winry shrugged, trying to inject some flippancy into her voice when she said, "But you don't have to worry, it didn't seem to affect me."

There was silence, and Winry took advantage of it to finish her porridge. She tried to pace herself, but eventually the desperation to get something in her stomach after months of it being empty overcame her, and without any nausea to check it, she was quickly devouring her food like a ravenous boar.

She looked up only when she had finished, feeling a sudden rush of self-consciousness as she realised everyone was staring at her.

"Winry...do you remember exactly what the Thule Society did to you?" Ed asked. His voice was even, but Winry detected an underlying tinge of anger. And even deeper beneath that...pain.

The mechanic swallowed. Apparently, they'd decided this was time for the hard questions. Not that she could really blame them – she wanted several mysteries explained herself...if they could be explained.

"The Thule Society didn't...make me this way."

And then she told them about her visit to Central, about being made part of a twisted alchemy experiment that somehow sent her hurtling into this world. And about her blood somehow being needed for the Thule Society to perform alchemy.

But most importantly, she told them all about her apparent immunity to starvation and dehydration as well as the cold, her mysterious ability to heal from wounds that should have taken weeks to repair, and the momentary telepathic-like link with Noa that had somehow granted her the ability to speak German.

"So...if you can explain any of that...be my guest," she finished, her tone rather brittle.

Noa was pressing her hand against her mouth, looking horrified.

"Oh, Winry," Al sighed, seemingly on the verge of tears at what she had endured.

"I'm okay," she said shakily, afraid that such a blatant show of affection would send her into sobs again.

She shot a quick glance at Ed, alarmed to realise that his face was white, and his automail hand was clenched so tightly around the arm of his chair he looked about to snap it off.

"Ed...?" she ventured cautiously.

Ed squeezed his eyes shut, wrestling with the hot, black anger twisting inside him like a furious snake.

"And you don't know what they did to you?" Noa asked, seeming to sense that the elder Elric needed a few moments to compose himself.

"No. But if you guys have any ideas..."

"I think I know what happened," Ed said quietly, his breath coming a little harder than was necessary as he struggled to speak calmly, to deal with this rationally.

Winry stared at him, a tinge of apprehension in her eyes as she waited to hear what might have been done to her.

"Winry...are you sure the red liquid went into your body?" he asked, trying to be as certain as he could before he proposed his theory. A theory that seemed ridiculous...but was really the only one that made sense.

Winry nodded slowly. "What do you think he did, Ed?"

"I think...I think he might have put a Philosopher's Stone in you."

-xxx-

_AN: Thanks to justcallmefaye for beta-ing this!_


End file.
